


A Happy Home

by Fallen_angel_of_time23



Series: When Two Hearts Beat As One [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Child Death, M/M, Mentions of Death, Panic Attack, comforting Zira, distressed Crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_angel_of_time23/pseuds/Fallen_angel_of_time23
Summary: Some things are to be expected when you stay in one place for a long time, like getting to know your neighbors or being able to walk the streets blindfolded. Other things are to be expected when you have a good reputation in this place, like people coming to your for advice or inviting you to numerous social events. However, there are those few things that one can only come to expect after they occur quite a number of times, like a visit from a certain demon. But this story is not just about the demon’s visits, no, it is about what happens once in a blue moon during these visits.





	A Happy Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haylellujah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haylellujah/gifts).

Some things are to be expected when you stay in one place for a long time, like getting to know your neighbors or being able to walk the streets blindfolded. Other things are to be expected when you have a good reputation in this place, like people coming to your for advice or inviting you to numerous social events. However, there are those few things that one can only come to expect after they occur quite a number of times, like a visit from a certain demon. But this story is not just about the demon’s visits, no, it is about what happens once in a blue moon during these visits. 

__________

The first time it happened, Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate, Principality of Heaven, had only had his little shop in Soho open for a year. Crowley, our demon in question, had only visited once prior - on opening day. He had brought chocolates. He had intended to come empty handed today. 

“AZIRAPHALE,” Crowley’s voice rang through the bookshop as he barreled through the door.  _ Where was he? Where was that bloody Angel? _ The two customers present jumped at the sudden noise and, upon seeing the state of the man in the doorway, quickly scurried out. “AZIRAPHALE,” Crowley called again as the people passed him, this time making the walls of the shop vibrate. His eyes, full serpentine and uncovered, scanned the shop before him with the quick intensity of someone in trouble.  _ Help, I need his help. Where is he?! WHERE IS HE!? WE NEED HIS HELP. I CAN’T-- I CAN’T DO THIS MYSELF. Angel, I need you. He  _ needs  _ you. Help. Help. Help. _ Crowley wasn’t aware that he was silently praying to Aziraphale for help until the angel suddenly materialized at his side, looking almost as frantic as Crowley felt. 

“Aziraphale,  _ please _ , you have to  _ help _ .” Crowley didn’t let the angel speak before thrusting a small bundle into his hands, not even attempting to hide the desperation in his voice. “ _ Please _ . I- I  _ tried _ . But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t help. I can’t  _ save him _ .  _ Please, save him. Please _ ! I…” the moment his arms were empty Crowley sunk to his knees, forehead resting against Aziraphale’s thigh; his hands clung with a soft strength to the angel’s shins just below his knees, “I will do  _ anything you ask  _ just please for all the love I have,  _ do this for me _ .” 

“Oh,  _ Crow _ ley…” The pain in Aziraphale’s voice was answer enough for him, his hands tightening into the material around the Angel’s legs, fingernails digging into his own palms through the fabric. Crowley felt a hand in his hair, stroking gently, coaxing him to relax, and for the first time it didn’t help. It wasn’t enough to counter the pain he was feeling in his chest. It couldn’t chase away the heaviness in his bones, or the guilt in his soul. It couldn’t make him  _ forget _ . So he clung tighter, pushed his head harder into Aziraphale’s legs, and did the only thing he knew how to do at that moment: he cried,  _ wept _ . 

Distantly he could feel the angel slowly sinking to his own knees. Aziraphale gently pried Crowley’s hands from his legs and guided them to wrap around his neck. One arm still cradling the bundle, his right hand found a home on the side of the demon’s face, holding him still while the angel rested their foreheads together. Together they wept. They wept for the loss of life in Azirphale’s arms. They wept for a life cut too short. They wept for the unfairness of the Universe. For God’s cruelty. For failed miracles. For being too late. For not being good enough. They wept for love. They wept for secrets kept. For promises whispered. They wept in solidarity. And they wept in isolation. They wept with the little, lifeless, budle cradled between them.

How long they stayed like that, neither knew. It didn’t matter anyway. Nothing was more important. The whisper of Crowley’s name on Aziraphale’s tongue broke the silence.

“ _ Crowley _ ,” the angel still hadn’t opened his eyes, having closed them when he joined Crowley on the floor, but he still felt the demon flinch back at his name. He let his thumb slowly trace the arch of Crowley’s cheek-bone, not saying anything more. He had said enough. By speaking first he had reminded Crowley that he was there, and wasn’t going to leave. The emphasis in his name translated to  _ You are not alone, I understand, I promise. I will help you how I can, I’m sorry I failed you first. Speak when you are ready, and I will listen. I will bear this burden of guilt with you. I’m sorry, my Dear. I’m so so sorry. If I could take away your suffering I would. You know I would.  _

Aziraphale knew it would take Crowley a while before he could explain, but he also knew it would be worth the wait. If Crowley needed it, Aziraphale was willing to wait until the world burned. With precious time, Crowley’s tears slowed and stopped. His body began to relax, and he finally inhaled. 

“I didn’t-” Crowley began, a sob making his body convulse before he could finish, “I didn’t  _ do this _ , Angel.  _ Please _ tell me you believe me, I didn’t, I promise--”

“Oh  _ Crowley, Crowley, Crowley _ . Of course I know you didn’t do this. You  _ never would _ .”

“Who can do ssssomething like this? Who is sssssso  _ evil _ they can  _ abandon their own child _ !? NO! Not just abandon,  _ throw them away.”  _ What started as a hiss because an enraged growl at the end that left Aziraphale suddenly terrified that Crowley was about to go hunt down a human. Silence reclaimed the shop as they struggled to control their emotions.

“I think, my Dear, it’s time you tell me what happened,” Aziraphale said, and after a moment of hesitation everything poured forth from the demon. 

Crowley told Aziraphale about how he had been having a great day. One of the best he’s had in awhile. He got to sleep in, do some minor demonic acts that resulted in quite a show, and he even found an old bottle of scotch that was still good while slithering down old snake holes. He got to nap in the sun, his plants were doing well, and he had plans that night with Aziraphale. His day had been amazing. Until it went to shit. 

He told the angel he had decided to walk around for a bit because he had arrived early and didn’t want to impose on him. It wasn’t going to be a long walk - it was freezing outside - but Crowley did enjoy the night sky. A quick walk around the block would have sufficed. He had made it halfway down the first side alley when he felt the tiny waves of distress. He immediately knew it was a child - a  _ baby _ \- that was in danger and quickly found the child. He found the child naked and alone  _ in a dumpster a breath away from death _ . 

Tears resumed falling down the demon’s face as he told the angel about how he tried again and again to heal the child. To save it from Death. He had miracled blanket after blanket and bundled the tiny being in swaths of layers. He had tried everything in his power but nothing had an affect on the child, and so in desperation he had rushed back to Aziraphale. Because if anything could save a life, it would be an angel. And he knew, he knew the baby would be dead before he got there. He knew there was nothing Aziraphale would be able to do if he couldn’t do anything himself. He knew the child was already too far gone to be rescued. But he also knew he couldn’t give up. He had to try. He had to. 

Full body sobs forced Crowley into silence until they passed. The angel held him, rubbing soothing circles into his back, waiting in patient silence for him to continue. When Crowley began to calm down and it was obvious he didn’t have anymore to say, Aziraphale’s hand found its way into Crowley’s hair where it stayed as he kissed the demon’s temple. 

“You did everything you could have, and you did everything right. It’s--”

“ _ Please _ , Angel.  _ Mercy…  _ Just this once, don’t say it.” 

“It’s not  _ fair _ ,” Aziraphale continued on, knowing Crowley had assumed he was going to say  _ ineffable _ . “I’m so sorry I can’t change that, Crowley. I’m sorry we have to live in a world that is so cruel and unkind even to those so innocent. Humans have the greatest capacity for good; sometimes more so than angels. But they also supersede demons in their ability to do evil. None of this,  _ not a single bit of it  _ is your fault, Crowley. There was nothing you could have done.  _ Not _ because it is - well, not because of  _ that _ \- but because neither one of us is allowed to bring humans back from the dead. And this child, as much as I pray it weren’t so, was already too far gone for either of us to save.”

“No, Aziraphale. You don’t understand, I  _ failed _ . I failed this child just like I fail everyone and everything I do. I could have gotten here sooner. I could have come straight to you instead of wasting time on  _ bloody blankets _ . I could have transported instead of running. There is so much I could have done,  _ I just didn’t care enough to think _ . I failed another child, Aziraphale. That’s unforgivable.” Crowley just clung to Aziraphale as he lifted his closed eyes upward and directed his thoughts toward God. “Why kids? Why is it always kids?  _ Why? Why kids? They are just kids! Why kids ...?”  _

“Crowley,” Aziraphale sat back until he was able to catch Crowley’s gaze and held it there, laying himself bare, emotionally. “Crowley,” he began again, “this child is now our responsibility, and they should be laid to rest.” He made sure Crowley could see in his eyes, what he wasn’t saying aloud.  _ It is time to bury them. Let us provide the love and care they were deprived of. Let us make up for our failure by not failing again. You found them, it is your duty to take the lead, but I am here. I will support you however you need me to.  _

“A name.” Crowley blinked and looked off to the side. “He needs a name if he is to be buried.”

“I am rather fond of Anastasius.” A small smile flickered across Aziraphale’s face as he watched Crowley scrunch up his nose. “It means rebirth or resurrection.”

“No.” It was soft but firmly spoken. “I do not wish for him to ever return to this world. He should never have to suffer again.” Aziraphale nodded along, knowing Crowley spoke the truth they both felt.

“How about Asier, meaning ‘the beginning’, or Janus, the Greek God of transitions? Hm… or maybe Neo? It means both ‘new’ and ‘gift’.”

“Neo. He looks like a Neo. He will be given a new life in Heaven, free of cruelty and sin. This is my gift to him. He is Neo, son of endless potential, named for what he was deprived of, and what he will never lack again.” 

They buried the child in the cemetery down the street. It was a short, solemn ceremony. If Crowley’s feet were smoking at the end, neither commented on it. If Aziraphale’s wings felt heavy and dragged on the ground till they bled, neither commented on it. They knew they would help care for each other after this was over. They both said a small something over the grave. Left flowers and toys. They agreed to visit on every anniversary. Crowley knew he would visit more often than that. Aziraphale did too. 

Millennium later, there is a little stone in a graveyard that is long forgotten by almost everyone. A little gravestone in perfect condition despite its age. A gravestone surrounded by fresh flowers, toys, and whispered apologies. A gravestone that is visited regularly by two immortal beings. A gravestone that marks a life that never quite began. A gravestone that reads:

NERO

_ 23 hours old _

“Death Makes Angels of Us All”

* * *


End file.
